In Varietate Puritas
by secretfanficlover
Summary: After Voldemort's downfall, ministries around the world have put forth a law requiring all children with relatives involved in any capacity with the Dark Arts to be removed from their parents for the world's—and their own—safety. After all, they can't allow evil to conquer the world again... Chapter 2: Who Is He? (Ch 1 & 3 by whitetiger91 & White Eyebrow.)


**This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**

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Word Count: 2016

Title: Chapter 2: Who Is He?

Note: A collaboration project with whitetiger91 and White Eyebrow. Please read the other two to follow the complete story! Thanks :) Also a shoutout to my team- it was an honour working with you both as well as the entire Gryffindor house of The House Cup Year 5.

Warnings: Abuse, arson

Beta: whitetiger91, White Eyebrow

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The House Cup:

House: Gryffindor

Class: Charms

Category: Bonus

Prompt: [Weather] Wildfire

Theme: Evil Conquers The World

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Marietta sighed to herself. This was turning out to be so much harder than she'd expected it to be. John was still resisting all her attempts to help him. She wanted to save him; she felt she owed it to those she'd betrayed, the scar on her face a constant reminder of what evil people were capable of. She'd gone to town to purchase some hair dye, as well as Muggle clothes, including jeans and shirts. It was as Madam Dawlish had said: it was all about giving John a fresh start.

She decided to make sure all access to the crypt was closed off; she didn't want John thinking he could keep hiding out in there. Although his cheeks and eyes were red when she'd let him out that night, he didn't seem to have learnt anything.

"I want to go home!" John cried, banging on the door.

They had him locked in his room after finding him, knowing that he would probably try to escape again. Barring the fact that he couldn't get back into the crypt, Marietta didn't know where the boy would end up; he could be found by wild hounds if he went out into the field behind the house.

It was about a week later that Marietta began the boy's transition. He was to be cleansed, and this involved a makeover; he needed to forget his evil past and focus on being a good boy. She still intended to destroy the plush dragon his mother had given him, but somehow during all the chaos, she had misplaced it. She was sure in time she would find it, and perhaps if John behaved, she would actually let him have the toy. She knew she wasn't supposed to, but it was only a trinket after all.

Cormac held John still as she cut his hair with a pair of kitchen scissors, and later when she opened the box of blond hair dye. John thrashed around in Cormac's arms, but her husband held him firm as she applied the dye to the boy's hair.

"So, John, your chores will be to make sure you tidy up your room, and make your own bed," Marietta said to him.

"Why can't house-elves do it?"

"I told you, we don't encourage evil in this household. You will listen, or I—I will use this rod to punish you," Marietta said, taking a long cane from the corner of the room to show him she was being serious about the threat. It wasn't easy; she hoped she'd never actually have to use it, but the threat of punishment itself seemed to be enough.

It wasn't long before John was out of line again. He had not made his bed; as she took the cane from the corner of the lounge, she felt her heart lurch at the thought of harming the child.

"It's for his own good," she whispered, touching the scar on her face as she walked up the stairs to his bedroom.

With trembling hands, she entered the room, shut the door, and blow after blow, struck the boy. Tears streamed down John's face, and she felt her own eyes prickle.

"Now," she said once she had finished the seven strikes, "I will not say this again; you will listen to us, or else."

She locked the door behind her, and took some time to compose herself before going downstairs.

It was the first Ministry visit after John had come to live with them. Madam Dawlish was making notes on her clipboard as she walked through the house.

"How often is he being disobedient?" she asked, looking up at Marietta.

"Still often; it doesn't seem to be getting any better, I'm afraid. His beatings have now become almost daily. He was sent to bed without dinner after his tantrum last night," Marietta confessed.

The official looked at her without a word, but the meaning was clear. She didn't believe Marietta was capable of fixing the boy.

"I still believe John can be rehabilitated," Marietta insisted, as the scrutiny of the woman made her doubt herself.

She had to believe she could save him, otherwise there was nothing left for the boy. She didn't think someone else would offer to take him if she sent him back to the Ministry's care.

"Well, Marietta, I can't say I'm pleased with the lack of progress here," she said, writing something down. "If these incidents don't decrease, we will have no choice but to take him away."

"I will do better; you can count on me," Marietta said.

"Remember, you chose this role to show the Minister what you can do; don't make us take away what we have given you," Madam Dawlish said as she left.

The beatings became harder and more frequent; she was determined to punish the evil out of the child. She'd just heard a strange noise coming from John's room, and when she felt for her wand, she discovered it was missing. She suspected he was behind it.

When she opened the door, she saw John sitting on the floor of his room, merely staring at his reflection in the mirror.

"Who is he?" John asked, pointing at his reflection.

"That is you," Marietta said, trying to smile, but not quite ready to accept that anything had changed yet.

"No, it's not." The boy sighed softly.

While he was looking at his reflection, his hair suddenly turned darker and grew to the length it was before he had the bad haircut.

"John! How dare you!" Marietta screeched.

"That's me," the boy said with a small smile.

"You are _not _to use magic until you have been rehabilitated," she said.

"I didn't mean to do it," John said. "Am I getting a beating again?"

"Yes," Marietta said, still shaken.

She would make sure the evil was taken from him; it seemed to be ingrained in him. The more time she spent with him, the more she felt that their was nothing to be done to fix him. He was simply a bad child, just like his parents—just like those who'd killed so many of her family members. When he grew up, there'd be no stopping him from resuming their efforts to destroy peace.

She fetched the cane from downstairs, before pausing and feeling her pockets. She realised that she didn't have her wand with her. When she got upstairs, the door had been locked from the inside.

"John! Open up or it will be worse for you!" Marietta shouted at the door, hoping to sound menacing.

There was no reply from inside the room. She sighed and called Cormac, intending to have him break down the door.

"Marietta! He's on the roof!" She heard Cormac's voice come from outside.

She headed outside just in time to watch the boy jump from the second story in desperation, noticing her wand clasped tightly in his small hands. John hit the ground at a roll, quickly getting up and running off past the crypt. It was only then that she noticed a fire had started in the fields. Black smoke drifted into the air, making her cough. The thicker it became, the more choked her coughs became, almost like she had mild asthma.

Marietta ran after the boy, but her eyes started to water as the wildfire rapidly spread, jumping from tree to tree in the distance and racing across the dry grass. The smoke was now so black and heavy it was hard to see. The memories of the Dark Mark lighting up the sky overcame her as she bent double, heaving for breath. The smoke surrounded her, broken only by the occasional red spark floating to the ground.

What hurt more, though, was the knowledge that John had started it. He had stolen her wand, despite everything she had done for him. Her heart thumped wildly; she felt helpless without her wand, and she didn't know if she would be able to find her ward.

'It would serve him right if he burned in the fire he started,' she thought venomously.

Somehow, she managed to stagger back towards the house, covering her mouth with her robes and using the direction the wind blew the charred leaves as her guide. She quickly found an asthma pump in a locked drawer in the lounge, spotting the offensive plush dragon in the drawer as well.

The name stood out more than before. Pollux—a traditional name used by the most depraved families. It was fitting.

She left the room and stood just outside the house, watching the fire spread.

Cormac stood by her side. "Don't worry, I called the Muggle fire brigade," he said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "They wouldn't know it was him; these wildfires aren't that uncommon in our area."

Marietta nodded, watching the red flames spreading into the dead branches of some of the older trees. They'd been around the house for years; just like the crypt, they were features that made the farm unique. It had been a few years since the last time a wildfire this severe had occured in the area, but it too had turned the sun an ominous shade of red. Her eyes were still tearing up from the smoke, and she knew her husband was aware that this was as much as she could take from the child.

"He stole my wand," she said softly.

"I know, dear. I think it's best we turn him back over to the Ministry; we haven't made much progress in helping him. Perhaps another family will have more success?" Cormac said, and Marietta nodded.

"Once we find him, I will inform the Ministry of our decision," she replied.

They were alerted by the deafening roar of the helicopters overhead, as well as the crackling noise of the fire spreading. They watched as sheets of water was dropped over the fire. Ash continued falling down from the sky, sticking to the clothing still hanging on the line, as well as the clothing on their backs. Marietta coughed again.

"Go inside," Cormac said, watching her struggle to get her breathing in order.

They eventually managed to find the child in the forest, covered in ashes and his jeans torn. His small face was also covered in soot. When Marietta saw him, she knew without a doubt that she needed to tell the Ministry he was evil. She didn't want them believing that she was incompetent, after all.

She got the Ministry worker to come almost immediately.

"So what happened?" Madam Dawlish asked her.

"He stole my wand, jumped out of the window, and used Dark Magic to start a wildfire," Marietta admitted.

Madam Dawlish looked at the child like he was a cockroach not worth stepping on.

"We are proud of you, Marietta," she said. "You needn't blame yourself; he is just a lost cause."

"I didn't do it! It was already there!" John said, struggling in the driver's grasp.

They ignored the boy entirely, though, except for watching him to make sure he didn't run again. They spoke as if he wasn't even present.

"I know my duty to my country, and I need to do the right thing," Marietta said.

The woman nodded. "The Minister will be proud to hear of your loyalty, and you could even be rewarded with a promotion," she said with a wicked grin.

"I think I can make a difference," Marietta said, nervously wiping at the strawberry-blonde hair across her face.

"We know," the woman replied. "_In Varietate Puritas_, Marietta. Come on, then, boy," she muttered, practically dragging the child to the car, not minding that her sharp nails were scratching the boy's arms as she pulled.

"I didn't do it! I didn't!"

He pounded on the car's window, but she refused to look at him or allow any guilt to consume her. He had started the fires… hadn't he? Cormac's reassuring arm rested across her shoulder, and she relaxed.

"_In Varietate Puritas._" Marietta sighed, content when the car finally pulled away. "Some peace at last," she said.


End file.
